


Rind and Pith

by swampslip



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Getting Together, Guilt, Infertility, Massage, Misunderstandings, Other, Outdoor Sex, Vaginal Sex, non-binary john marston, trying to remember that one sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28589454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swampslip/pseuds/swampslip
Summary: "You sure?" Arthur whispers, glancing at the bruises, the older man sitting up straighter, his hands easing their grip on John's waist, "You know I didn't mean to-""I know.""You bruise so easy, I didn't-""Arthur, I know," John says firmly, "Alright? I ain't mad or nothin'.""I'm still sorry.""Yeah, you always are."
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	Rind and Pith

**Author's Note:**

> nub, slit, hole, cunt, chest used for john  
> discussion and lamenting of infertility

John's pinned to the tree with Arthur's angry face near his. 

John makes a small sound of pain brows furrowing as he meets Arthur's eyes. 

"You oughta learn to hold your tongue, Marston," Arthur says darkly, "Say the wrong thing n' someone might just cut it right out." 

"Jesus, Arthur," John breathes out shakily, shrinking back against the tree, "The hell is wrong with you?" 

"You ain't been nothin' but a pain in my side since Dutch brought you back like some mangey stray," Arthur mutters, "Sick of you."

John just stares as his chest burns with hurt and he can't even remember what exactly he said.

"Alright," John says weakly, "I'll keep out your hair, yeah? You can take someone else on jobs."

Arthur huffs lowly and shoves back from him just a bit, hands squeezing John's shoulders roughly. 

"I don't even know what I did wrong," John says, tensing when Arthur focuses on him, gaze sharp, "'M sorry."

"Don't talk 'bout her like that," Arthur whispers, "Just don't talk 'bout her."

"What?" John whispers back, "M- Uh…"

"Don't."

"... Alright, if that's all, I can do that," John promises quickly, "Can you spare me the rod or whatever?"

Arthur watches him for a second then frowns and lets go, steps back. 

"Wasn't gonna hit you."

"Yeah," John rasps and grabs at his left shoulder, "Thanks. Christ, Arthur." 

"... Sorry."

"S'fine," John says weakly, "Didn't mean to piss you off so bad." 

Arthur mutters under his breath and turns around walking away from their camp, down the hill towards the river. 

"Fuck," John whispers shakily and drops down to sit against the trunk of the tree, rubbing alternately at each of his shoulders and trying to calm his soaring heart.

\--

He can feel Arthur staring at his back as they're bathing near the shore and it's making his skin prickle. 

"Somethin' on my back?" John asks tentatively, facing away. 

"Bruises."

"Oh… Yeah," John glances at his shoulders where he can see the front of the bruising on either side.

"... I'm sorry," Arthur says quietly, voice full of regret. 

"... Don't hurt as much as it looks nasty."

Arthur just grunts softly and moves through the water as the younger tenses, listening to Arthur come up behind him. 

"How bad?" Arthur asks quietly and John bites his tongue when Arthur's fingers brush over the marks they made only two days ago.

"Uh… Not as bad as bein' lashed, worse than bein' punched?"

Arthur huffs softly, still tracing the bruises. 

"Let me put somethin' on 'em, when we go back up," Arthur mumbles, stepping away.

"Sure."

\--

John sits nervously on his bedroll as Arthur moves around. 

He's been instructed to take his shirt off, now holding it tight in front of his chest, hugging it.

Arthur kneels heavily behind him and John holds his breath. 

"S'gonna hurt."

"I know."

Arthur smears the cold gel over John's right shoulder and John muffles himself with the shirt. 

Arthur pauses, behind him, and they're both struck still. 

"You good?" 

John nods slowly, bringing his legs close and hugging them. 

"You…" Arthur mutters and reaches around John with his clean hand, grabbing his flask and shoving it into John's chest, "Here."

John murmurs his thanks and takes a swig, making a small face at the tub liquor's bite. 

Arthur's hands return to his shoulders and slowly soothe away the sting and ache with gentle pushing and pulling of calloused fingers over the bruises. 

John takes another swig, wipes his mouth on the back of his wrist then closes the flask and sets it to the side. 

Letting his head fall forward as Arthur continues to work the salve into his shoulders, stretching the extra down John's back. 

Arthur's hands slowly lift off of him. 

"Still hurt?" 

John shakes his head tiredly. 

"Alright," Arthur murmurs and stands, wiping his hands off on his bandana and moving to sit on the stump between their bedrolls. 

John looks at Arthur sitting up on the stump and makes the decision rather boldly.

Climbs up into Arthur's lap, straddling the older man, leaving his shirt on the bedroll and sitting up. 

Arthur closes his eyes. 

"What are you doin'?" Arthur whispers. 

"We could, if you want."

"... Why?"

" _Why_?" John huffs softly and moves one hand to Arthur's upper arm, shifting to try and get more comfortable. 

He leans a little too far to one side, but can't even start to slip before Arthur's grabbing his waist and steadying him. 

"I mean, I want to. You ain't gotten any in a while. Do we need another reason?"

"... One off?"

"Only if you're a shitty fuck."

Arthur snorts quietly and slowly lifts his eyes to meet John's. 

"You sure?" Arthur whispers, glancing at the bruises, the older man sitting up straighter, his hands easing their grip on John's waist, "You know I didn't mean to-"

"I know."

"You bruise so easy, I didn't-"

"Arthur, I know," John says firmly, "Alright? I ain't mad or nothin'."

"I'm still sorry."

"Yeah, you always are."

Arthur sighs quietly and shifts back on the stump, pulling John's hips closer. 

"What do you wanna do?" 

John shrugs lightly, moves his hand behind Arthur's neck and rocks his hips. 

Arthur's breath hitches then he bows his head lightly, hair tickling John's sternum. 

"Could blow you?" John offers quietly, "If you ain't interested in someone… Like me."

"I am," Arthur says thickly. 

"Then you could fuck me, if you want."

"What do _you_ want?" 

"Hm… Anythin' you don't like?" 

"... Don't like bein' talked down, or hurt, that's 'bout it."

"... Alright," John says softly and rubs his thumb up the side of Arthur's neck, watching the older man shiver, "Anythin' you particularly _like_?"

Arthur doesn't answer, his fingers flexing on John's waist. 

"Arthur?"

"Know you… You got a hole, right?" Arthur whispers hesitantly, "Can I taste you?"

John makes a soft noise of surprise but quickly nods. 

"Yeah, shit, only heard 'bout that… Never felt it."

"Let me, then," Arthur whispers. 

John shrugs and looks back over his shoulder at their bedrolls then gasps when Arthur stands. 

Lifting him up and holding him like he's nothing. 

Arthur walks them over to a tree and John's chest hitches with the soft impact of his bare back against bark. 

The older man carefully setting him down then dropping to his knees. 

Tugging at the laces of John's drawers and pulling them down, helping the younger step out of them. 

Leaving John fully bare. 

Arthur's hands smooth up his thighs then gently urge him to spread his legs, lifting one onto his shoulder. 

John muffles a small sound at the feeling of hot breaths over his cunt.

"Oh-" John gasps and covers his mouth when Arthur's tongue licks up his slit.

Circles his nub, the older man's eyes closed tight, brows furrowed as he starts to gently suck. 

John can't stop the little whimpering sounds he's making, shifting on his leg, grabbing at the tree behind him then threading his fingers into Arthur's hair. 

Clenching around nothing, slick starting to drip out of him as Arthur pulls back just a bit, breathing heavy. 

Making a low, rough sound of hunger before pressing close again, licking into John's cunt and squeezing the thigh hooked over his shoulder. 

"Arthur-" John says shakily, "Oh God."

Arthur's eyes open and he looks up at John with a heavy-lidded, heated gaze. 

Pointedly fucking his tongue into John then dragging the flat of it up and over John's nub until the younger can't help but writhe and squirm, tugging lightly at Arthur's hair. 

"Art- Arthur-" John says shakily, as Arthur's fingers slip inside him, tongue playing over his nub. 

He moves his hand to the side of Arthur's face and moans brokenly then whines, pulsing around Arthur's fingers when he comes. 

Arthur pulls back to watch John's hips rocking onto his fingers, the older man's mouth and chin shiny with slick. 

"Fuck-" John whimpers and curls up on himself, leg faltering under him and he starts dropping down. 

Arthur shifts John’s leg off his shoulder and tugs him away from the tree so he doesn't scratch his back, letting John settle into his lap. 

John's breathing heavy and tensing, squirming, pressing his face into Arthur's shoulder. 

"Holy shit," John whispers. 

"You good?" Arthur murmurs and his hands are gripping John's hips. 

"Yeah- Fuck," John swallows roughly and leans back, staring at his slick on Arthur's lips. 

Arthur's watching him carefully, almost nervous. 

"Not gonna break me, you know?" John guesses, quietly. 

"... Yeah," Arthur says just as quietly. 

John leans in and hesitates, then presses his lips to Arthur's and licks over the older man's lower lip. 

Whining softly at the taste of himself on Arthur. 

Arthur makes another rough sound against his mouth and tugs him closer by his hips. 

John can feel the hard bulge of Arthur's cock under the folds of denim, pressing up against his slit and it makes him shudder. 

"Arthur," John whispers and pulls back to catch his breath, "C'mon, can feel you're hard."

He hears Arthur swallow loudly but the older man doesn't react more than tucking his face into John's neck and just breathing. 

"Hey," John murmurs, "What?" 

"Dunno if I can make it good for you right now," Arthur says thickly. 

"Hm?"

"Like you said," Arthur whispers, "Been a while."

John presses his cheek against Arthur’s. 

Then reaches down between them and starts slipping the buttons free on Arthur's pants. 

Arthur's shaky inhale is loud under his ear as he palms the older man's cock through the thin cotton drawers. 

"Johnny," Arthur whispers.

"Yeah?" 

"... Just- Keep goin'," Arthur breathes out just as shakily and closes his eyes tightly, "Please."

"Wasn't plannin' on stoppin'."

And John parts the panels of Arthur's drawers to get his hand around the older man's cock, pulling him out. 

Arthur groans weakly and rubs his cheek against John's throat. 

John presses his lips together and nudges Arthur back a bit before aligning their hips so Arthur's cock is pressed along his slit. 

Arthur curses under his breath and grabs John's elbows tightly, leaning back and looking down between them. 

"Lay back," John murmurs and prods at Arthur until the older man shifts off his knees and leans back on the ground, looking up at John, then covering his face, whispering another curse. 

His cock twitching against John, making the younger laugh softly. 

"Like what you see?" John asks, a bit sarcastically. 

He's sure he's a sight, pale and bruised and rail thin, scarred with ruddy cheeks. 

"You look good," Arthur mutters, "Lord, Johnny, you look so good."

John blinks in surprise, glad Arthur's covering his own face and can't see the shock on his. 

He swallows quietly and rocks his hips, slick easing Arthur's cock against his slit. 

Arthur makes a gut-punch noise and his legs shift behind John restlessly, crossing his arms over his face as John steadies himself. 

Hands on Arthur's clothed belly, gently shucking up the older man's shirt. 

"Art?" John whispers, "You wanna be inside?"

"Too close," Arthur says thickly. 

"... Wouldn't mind."

Arthur drops his hands to either side of his head, looking up at John. 

"What?" Arthur whispers hoarsely.

John shifts, grinds down on Arthur, who grits his teeth, shrugs.

"If you want."

"John."

"It won't take or nothin'."

Arthur lets out a shaky sound and runs his hand down his face. 

Biting at his lower lip. 

"... If you don't wanna-"

"Only done it one other time," Arthur says hoarsely, "You know how that ended."

John stills, swallows roughly. 

He knows this _thing_ about Arthur. 

That the older man thinks he's cursed. 

Blames himself. 

John doesn't know how to respond for a moment. 

He wants to ask about the things that make Arthur furious and bitter. 

Instead he just reaches between them, guides Arthur's cock to his hole and rocks back. 

Arthur gasps and his back arches up off the soft dirt. 

John steadying himself again, fussing with Arthur's shirt. 

Biting his lip and clenching around the fullness of Arthur's cock inside him. 

"John," Arthur whispers, "Johnny."

"Mm?"

Arthur's eyes close tight and his hands curl around John's hips carefully. 

John tilts himself forward and lets Arthur pull and push his hips, guiding him into fucking himself on the older man. 

His mouth falls open with small puffing breaths, the angle is _good_ and it's been a while for him as well. 

"Shit," John whispers and leans down further dropping his head onto Arthur's chest, helplessly clenching and dripping around Arthur's cock, "You feel good."

Arthur shivers under him and John rocks back. 

"Fit so well, Art," John whispers shakily, "Perfect for me."

Arthur's fingers dig into his hips and the older man lets slip a terribly weak sound, almost a whimper. 

"So good," John says and rocks back again, clenching the whole way, feeling Arthur's hips buck up to meet his, "S-so, hn-"

And John comes, crying out and gasping as he clamps down on Arthur, the older man fucking up into him a few times until slick and seed are dripping out of him with every pulse of his cunt around Arthur. 

He collapses and presses close to Arthur, breathing unsteadily. 

Listening to Arthur's soaring heartbeat through the older man's heated skin.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur whispers, his fingers biting into the flesh over John’s hipbones then sliding up John’s back, pulling the younger down against him firmly. 

“‘M not,” John mumbles with his face flush to Arthur’s chest, letting his body go lax on top of the older man, “You shouldn’t be.”

Arthur just breathes out roughly with that rind and pith bitterness like he wants to protest, argue his lack of innocence. 

John makes himself as heavy as he can, bullying his arms around Arthur’s shoulders to hug himself to the older man. 

Arthur holds tense for a second then deflates, settling against the ground. 

His hand rubbing slowly up and down the edge of one of John’s shoulderblades. 

“If I could…” John whispers, “For you, I would, y’know?”

“What?”

“Have a kid… With you.”

“... You thought about this before?” Arthur asks, voice sticking in his throat. 

“Know you miss ‘em,” John says quietly, turning his head to take a deep breath, “Know it hurts.”

“S’not on you to-”

“I know,” John says quickly, making a small, frustrated sound and closing his eyes tightly, hugging closer to Arthur, “Trust me.”

“Why’d you say that?” Arthur mumbles, “If you can’t?”

John shrugs lightly. 

“Don’t want you to think I’m selfish or nothin’.”

“... John.”

“I know you think you’re selfish, let me have my moment,” John jokes quietly then goes silent, fidgeting with a lock of Arthur’s hair, “Kinda serious, though…”

“Why does it matter?”

“Don’t you wanna have another kid? Someday?”

“... Lil’ late for me.”

John huffs and sits up a bit, pressing his lips together as Arthur’s soft cock slips out of him. 

“You ain’t that old,” John mutters roughly and knocks the heel of his palm against Arthur’s shoulder. 

Arthur rolls his eyes and looks at John softly before sitting up fully with John in his lap. 

Then wrapping John’s legs around his waist and holding the younger to his chest as he stands. 

“Where we goin’ now?” John mumbles, “Jesus, you carry me ‘round like a sack of feed.”

“River, again,” Arthur mutters, “And no, think you’re lighter, actually.”

John makes an indignant sound and can’t stop himself from pouting just a bit. 

Then Arthur sets him down at the shoreline and lifts his chin. 

“I don’t care,” Arthur says firmly, “Alright? S’not why I like _you_.”

John just kinda blinks up at him for a moment then whispers. 

“You like me?”

Arthur groans and drops John’s chin, moving away to shuck his clothes for the second time today. 

“C’mon, Arthur, seriously?” John asks, trying not to let his voice waver, “You like me?”

“Yeah.”

John swallows down his surprise and watches Arthur come back towards him from the tree he hung his clothes on. 

Grimacing and nudging John towards the water. 

“Don’t act so shocked,” Arthur mutters and moves his hand to John’s wrist as they wade in, tugging the younger to tread water in the deepest part. 

“Kinda am.”

“Why- You said it, alright?” Arthur’s hands encircle his waist and hold him close, John’s toes barely skimming the sandbed below them, “Don’t need another reason.”

“But you got one.”

“... Yeah,” Arthur sighs and settles to stand with the water mid-sternum. 

And his eyes drift to John’s shoulders again, the bruises again. 

“I’m fine,” John says quickly when he notices, “C’mon, Arthur, don’t make me tell you again that-”

“You could tell me a million times not to be mad at myself or feel guilty… I will anyway,” Arthur whispers, “Don’t let me off so easy.”

“Fine. Kiss ‘em better,” John says brashly and tilts his head up out of the way, looking up at the darkening sky. 

Arthur doesn’t move for a few seconds then squeezes John’s waist and leans down, pressing his lips lightly to the darkest fingerprint in the bruise. 

John lets his hands settle on Arthur’s chest, fingertips just peeking out of the water as the older man brushes soft kisses over the bruises he left. 

“Already forgave you, alright?” John whispers, “I know I pissed you off, I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“I did,” Arthur says hoarsely and presses his forehead to John’s neck, “I just needed you stop talkin’.”

John’s mouth tilts into a frown and he pulls back, feeling Arthur’s hands frantically grab at his waist, but John just tilts his head the other way and closes his eyes. 

“Kiss the other side,” John mumbles, leaning heavier into Arthur’s chest. 

“ _John_.”

“ _Arthur_ ,” John mimics then sighs softly, knocking his forehead against Arthur’s collarbone, “Please?”

The older man makes a rough sound but leans in and kisses each fingerprint of the bruise with the lightest presses of his lips. 

Then Arthur walks them backwards to a rock in the shallows, sitting back and holding John close between his legs. 

“Thanks,” John murmurs and leans into the older man. 

“Should clean up,” Arthur whispers. 

“Yeah?” John hums softly, voice gaining a teasing tone, “Ain’t leaked a drop.”

“Fuck,” Arthur whispers sharply and squeezes John tightly, “Jesus, Johnny.”

“Like that?” John leans back to look at the older man, studying Arthur for a moment. 

His chest aches at the thought, that he can never give Arthur a kid, can never have one for himself. 

“You’re wicked,” Arthur mutters, “Never woulda thought.”

“What?”

“Just…” Arthur’s cheeks flush lightly and he fidgets on the rock, “I mean it makes sense, you always been bold.”

“Hm.”

“Shouldn’t be that surprisin’, I just-” Arthur clears his throat weakly, “I ain’t considered you like _this_ for all that long.”

“I figured,” John says and drops his hands to Arthur’s bare thighs, “You do like me though?”

“... Yeah.”

“When you asked if this was gonna be a one-off was that-”

“I was… I don’t know, John,” Arthur sighs quietly and covers John’s hands, hooking one ankle behind John’s knee, “Was half worried, half relieved, that it might just be once. That you just wanted to get off and I was there.”

John’s mouth quirks to the side again and he wiggles his fingers out from under Arthur’s to crawl up into Arthur’s lap again. 

“You fancy me as a chair, Marston?” Arthur mutters but his arms wrap behind John’s back to keep him there. 

“Worked up, y’know, have been for a bit,” John whispers, “But it ain’t just ‘cause you’re ‘round that I want you.”

“... Yeah, know that now.”

John falls quiet then leans in against Arthur’s chest and settles against the older man. 

“... Johnny,” Arthur murmurs, “Supposed to be cleanin’ up.”

“It can wait,” John says quietly and squeezes Arthur, “We got time.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://providentialeyes.tumblr.com)   
>  [my twitter](https://www.twitter.com/gwennolmarie)   
>  [horny twitter](https://www.twitter.com/swampslip)


End file.
